2017

It was a Monday. The 18th year of Monday Family Dinner night. The house was full. Kids, laughter, dogs, extended family, and a pile of dirty dishes. I was picking up random empty glasses when my pager started vibrating. The notification read, SVC, a single vehicle collision. My heart stopped. I looked at my husband and said, “It’s my Dad,” as I ran out of the house.

1980-something

I was in high school and Dad was a volunteer on our local fire department. We had a scanner in the living room and I occasionally listened to it as we sat and watched our nightly tv shows. Dad and I were both pretty competitive and we had many scrabble games during my high school and college years. One day we were in the middle of a match and his pager went off, I think he felt bad leaving and he asked if I wanted to come along. Somewhat surprised that I had not really thought of it on my own, I jumped at the opportunity.

So began a period in my life when I would “ride along” with him if I was available. I was with him when a motorcyclist hit a pole. That was definitely an eye opener and I haven’t been on a motorcycle since. Another time I jumped in with him and we responded to a call just up the road from our home. It was a beautiful day and a car had just left the local beach with a full load of passengers. Too full. The car lost control on a corner and hit a tree. We parked 100 or so yards from the scene and began to walk up. Another firefighter was already there and he walked quickly away from the destroyed hatchback and came our way. He spoke quietly with my Dad and then returned to the car. My Dad then turned in front of me and told me to walk home. He refused to tell me why although the details did make the local paper at the time. His goal was to save me from seeing the young victims, in doing so he actually stoked my interest in trauma work.

I managed to make a few more calls with him and then life got busy. College, work, marriage, kids. All the things. I occasionally thought about joining my local volunteer department, but as a stay home mom with a houseful of kids, it was near impossible. The desire to join was overrun by 6 overlapping soccer schedules, chaperoning school events and days as Spelling Mom at the elementary school. A busy, happy and most rewarding time of my life.

Fast Forward to 2016

The year of highs and lows. It always amazes me how things happen in this wide world of ours.

My eldest, Anna, upon turning 18, joined our local fire department as a volunteer. She and Dad would have conversations about her calls, training and fun stories. As firefighters and ems members do, they also shared stories of injuries, accidents and outcomes. I was usually milling about and making dinner as I listened to their Monday Family Dinner Night banter. As time passed I was becoming more interested in the fire service again. All of my babies were older now and did not require near constant adult supervision, leaving me with more free time.

One evening Anna invited me to the station with her where I applied to be a member. Once accepted, I started training and taking courses. Emergency Medical Responder, Wildland Firefighter, dive team assistant, and CPR Instructor, among others. I completed FEMA classes in Emergency Management and then took trauma courses like Pediatric Burns, Impalements, and Mass Casualty Operations, through an online college program.

During this time Anna and I volunteered at the same station and responding to calls with my daughter was amazing. We worked well together and even though we had different work and life schedules we were able to cross paths on scene or ride a truck together. In addition to emergency calls, we did parades, camp wake up days, fundraisers and school events together.

Late one night we responded to a car accident together and upon arrival it was noted that the vehicle was significantly compromised. At this time in our ongoing training, Anna was an EMT and I was an EMR. Due to the unresponsive condition of the driver, we needed to start medical treatment sooner rather than later. Anna and I crawled in through a broken back window and were able to apply a neck brace, start medical treatment, and then cover the patient with our bodies while the vehicle was cut open and the roof peeled back. We were then able to board the patient for transport to the awaiting Life Flight. It was a highlight night for me. Working in sync with my daughter to help save that patient was amazing. Finding out afterwards that the helicopter medic complimented her work was even better.

One year we gave my Dad an iPad for Christmas and we continued our insane scrabble matches online. Sometimes several matches at once. Unfortunately, during much of 2016 I was also spending time taking him to MD appointments and chemotherapy for lung cancer. He continued to work part time and lunched with his buddies at their usual hang out almost daily. Chemo was getting to him though and the side effects were becoming more apparent as time went on.

2017

The last week of September was flying by and Dad was having some significant neuropathy issues. We ended up at the MD’s that week and he was prescribed a high dose steroid to combat his symptoms. By Monday he was feeling a bit better and even though I had been giving him rides, he felt well enough to head over for Monday Family Dinner night.

It was Monday, October 2nd. The 18th year of Monday Family Dinner night. The house was full. Kids, laughter, dogs, extended family, and a pile of dirty dishes......

Dad had eaten a huge dinner and was finishing a glass of milk when he decided it was time to head home. In typical fashion our dinner nights ended around 8pm as he knew that we had to get kids settled for school the next day. Usually I would walk him to his car to make sure he did not have a problem on the steps, but I hugged him at the door and sent him out with another family member. Less than an hour later...

I was picking up random empty glasses when my pager started vibrating. The notification read, SVC, a single vehicle collision. It was a long stretch of back road 3 miles from home. The immediate pain in my heart was absolutely intense. I looked at my husband and said, “It’s my Dad,” as I ran out of the house.

If you don’t know, as first responders we are trained to always go to the station and not right to an emergency scene. We generally cannot be helpful without appropriate gear. That night, instead of taking a right turn to the station I continued straight to get to him. I already knew in my head that he had been there for a bit. As I rounded the corner my headlights flashed across his vehicle and I screamed. It was the first time in my life that I felt the guttural scream of panic rise from deep inside my body. Many people have described it, but I never knew how intense it was until that moment.

His Toyota Forerunner was on its side, driver’s door on the ground and damage literally everywhere. Major parts were scattered in the roadway, tires on rims, metal, plastic, and glass. I ran to the truck and stood against the underside, peering over into the hole where most of the passenger door should have been. Dad was on the ground up against the rearview mirror, the airbag and the dash. I called him a few times and he mumbled something…he was very adamant about what he was trying to say, but I could not hear him. It was at this time that the Chief pulled up in his personal vehicle. The first responding officer is supposed to survey the scene, determine needs, and then radio to the responding vehicles and dispatch with this information. As he approached the vehicle, he was talking on his portable and I called out to him to have one of the other firefighters grab my gear so that I could climb in the vehicle. I also requested a helicopter as the patient met the protocol for one. I must have sounded hyped as I am usually very calm and patient on scene. He noted the difference in demeanor and asked who was in the unidentifiable vehicle. When I said it was my Dad everything changed. I was escorted to a nearby stone wall and had to sit and watch instead of doing my job, rightly so, but still. Extrication and patient care were needed and I knew what to do. I was trained for exactly this. I knew I could do it. Having to sit and watch the prolonged extrication was so hard. Fortunately, I was able to jump in the ambulance and head to the hospital with him.

Dad and I had planned a breakfast meeting before work the following day so that I could do an errand with him. As the EMT began vitals, Dad looked at me and said very clearly, “welp, this is going to fu** up breakfast.” That was 100% typical Dad. I actually laughed out loud.

During the ambulance ride, as the Golden Hour slipped by, he began to repeat himself. What happened? I would answer, reassure and stare at his vitals. He would repeat the question 2 minutes later. This was not reassuring and I began to question my belief that he was going to be okay. Upon arrival at the hospital, I was able to wheel his stretcher right into the trauma room. I began cutting clothes off , bagging them and picking glass from his face while the MD started a central line. A portable CT was brought in, but numbers were dropping and his initial intermittent confusion was now constant repetition of “what happened.” We began to package him up for the helo ride to Umass.

The helo team walked into the trauma room and asked for patient info. I immediately began to spurt information. Memorized as only a daughter and health proxy would. Age, DOB, blood type, current health, cancer, treatment, stage, condition, listed all current meds and went over the accident injuries I knew of. As we were wheeling him outside, the Helo the medic said he was impressed with my patient review. It was at that point that I realized that everyone assumed I was just with the ambulance. In their defense, I was wearing a fire department hoodie. I told him that the patient was my father and he literally stopped in his tracks. I don’t think he had ever been in that situation before. As they loaded him I stepped back and took a picture because anyone that knows him knows that he would never let me live it down if he got a helo ride and there were no pictures.

We spent a long night playing an involuntary game of truth & consequences every time a new MD came in to add to the increasing list of injuries. Multiple facial fractures, including right mandible fracture x3, right maxillary fracture, C2 fracture with hematoma, 4 broken ribs, lacerated spleen, fractured pelvis, to name a just a few.

I ran home around 5am, grabbed a bag of essentials and spent most of the next 11 days sitting and waiting for the few brief moments of Dad’s wakefulness that I was blessed with. During this time I also learned some important lessons about patient care, specifically about intubation of a lifelong smoker, difficulties with oxygen and medical equipment when the patient has a “floating face” due to the fractures of all supporting facial bones, MD rounds, DNR’s and how a lifesaving cancer treatment stops when a patient is in the hospital. I was taken to a room with a social worker and was told that IF my Dad survived the accident injuries it would involve a lengthy hospital stay and then a lengthy rehabilitation stay. During all of that time, cancer treatment does not happen. They said straight up that he was going to die from the accident or the cancer. They handed me a stack of forms and filed out of the room.

On Friday, October 13th, at 8:20pm, I was dozing with my forehead on his arm when he passed.

2026 Coincidence? I think not.

I know that this was rather lengthy, but this is where we get to the, “I don’t believe in coincidences part.”

First and foremost, if my Dad had never asked me along in 1980-something. I would not have had that Golden Hour with him.

If my daughter had never asked me to join up with her, I would not have had that Golden Hour with him.

Anna was in a fire class out of town on the night of the accident. They had a scanner on in the class area and she heard my voice over the scanner while I was talking to my Chief on an open mic at the accident scene. Anna, knowing the timing and the Monday Family Dinner night schedule, figured out exactly what happened and met me at Umass.

Dad passed at the same time the 13th, to the minute, as the time that the accident happened on the 2nd.

Later that year, I was at my desk sorting through more of Dad’s paperwork when my husband heard me sobbing, he came around the corner and I handed him the registration to the Toyota. It expired October 13, 2017.

Technical Talk

For those of you questioning the “how” of the accident itself, it took me much digging and review of MD reports, police reports, and medical research based on his symptoms that week, but, apparently the high dose steroids significantly affected his blood sugar. Lab results indicate that he was most likely semi-unconscious when he accelerated his vehicle. He continued to accelerate down a straight away and then continued straight through a corner, into a tree, up a slight incline to a stone wall and then rolled backwards into the roadway.

Funny Story

During one five minute period of awareness on Wednesday, October 11, 2017, my Dad asked for coffee using morphine controlled form of a charades that I finally figured out. He freakin loved his coffee and basically survived on it for most of his adult life. The nurse absolutely refused and would not even let me sponge it on his lips. He was able to muster enough strength to flip us off before he went back into a morphine sleep. The night he passed, I was left alone with him for over an hour. The VERY FIRST person to enter the room after that was a hospital employee with a cartful of coffee that they apparently deliver to the room when family is grieving a death. You all know I stole a sponge swab from the nurse’s station for that moment. I figured it was the first thing he asked God for.

You

If you are still reading and find that you feel an overwhelming desire (or just a slight spark of desire) to join the fire department, learn some skills, and volunteer in your community, now is your chance. Consider this as me asking you if you would like to “ride along.”

You never know how the training you will receive may come full circle.